Repairs
by HVK
Summary: On a lovely picnic and having some time to themselves, Finn and Bubblegum get all romantic. Bubblegum has plenty of thoughts about fixing up some of the problems she'd made between them as well. But there is only the day before them, the times to come, and always the friendship and love between them. Heavy Fubblegum fluff and affection, of course!


I wrote this story as part of a bunch of fics I plan on writting up to satisfy the Fubblegum feels of my good friend The Stinky Foot, not to mention work with my recent rise of Fubblegum love!

It's also my first official Fubblegum story, so I'm feeling pretty good about that too.

In case it's not clear, the title refers to Bubblegum reparing her relationship with Finn in one way or another! Hee, good feels all around.

* * *

Daylight on water, shining sweetly and beautifully even into the depths of the ancient lake; once a part of a city that had stood on this land once, now lying in ruins and drowned by the weight of rain that had collected over time into a water basin. irregular shapes lying sadly against each other and propping others up mute witness to the glories of a bygone age.

It was a tragedy in some ways to see such a sad sight, thought Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum of the Candy Kingdom, and yet in other ways it was a blessing; the accomplishments of ancient humanity surviving even to this day for all to see. Ore taken forth from the earth's greedy grasp, melted and reborn by the heat of flames and industry, reshaped into more useful and very artificial forms (and she found a sense of the sacred, the _numinous_ in artifice, it was purer and better then natural occurrence, because all of nature's works were _accidents _that only existed because they had failed less than their precursors, but artifice was wholly intentional, with the light of reason and creation molding every aspect of their work), and brought together in unison as these buildings. Many disparate parts to make a new whole that, though their makers and parent civilization was dead and gone forever more, still endured despite all the probability otherwise.

She told Finn all of this, the younger boy sitting meekly beside and looking into the lake with her. Buoyed by a light-headedness that none of the romantic novels and advice books had hinted would come up sitting together with the person you loved and just _being there _with them, the filter between her mind and mouth seemed to just drop and vanish when she was next to Finn; she had so many brilliant ideas, so many wondrous insights she had to share, had to let _him _know _RIGHT NOW_.

This urgency, this tendency to immediately act upon any idea that seemed good irrespective of its appropriateness, had caused problems in so many relationships (and for a moment she thinks of that brief relationship with dear Gui, and winces at the thought of losing what she had with Marceline; they are friends again, dear and true, thanks to Finn, but they can't have what they used to before it came apart). With Finn, though… well. He is precisely as impulsive and enthusiastic as she is when the mood takes her, and it's nice to think about that.

The glare of daylight on the water is lovely to see; soft and calm, shimmering gently on water and spreading refracting light through the depths… she could stare at it for hours, marveling at every detail even as she works out _why _it is beautiful, so that the beauty grows for her. For a moment, she thought of the boy next to her, and wryly thought of hours spent lying next to him as he slept, peaceful and totally comfortable with her, and sliding her fingers through his thick blonde hair, marveling at the feel of his hair and it's silky touch, examining the fine strands and how they came together into a sweet mass better even than Marceline's crown of night-dark hair.

They were a lot alike, Bubblegum and Finn, or at least so thought Princess Bubblegum. They changed the world for the better, as they had determined what better was in accordance with their understandings in the precepts of Good, regardless of whatever other people thought. They did things because they knew it to be _right_, and this shared understanding of objective alignment had helped bond them together.

Bubblegum knew a lot of philosophy from the time before the Great Mushroom War. Looking at their reflections, she and Finn together upon the water's shining image of them, she smiled faintly and said quietly, "'Behold, the Superman! He is this lightning, this madness!'"

"Peebles?" Finn said dreamily. "Whatcha talking about?"

"Just a dream that someone said, a long time ago," Bubblegum said softly. She smiled again; she wasn't sure if she had been thinking of herself or Finn when she'd recited that old quote. Perhaps it was accurate to them both.

Without thinking about it, she curled against Finn, moving an arm around his side and dragging him to her and giggling a little at the small surprised squeak he made. For a moment, he was stiff and unsure, and then softened against her, willingly snuggling into her side, his shoulder and the side of his faces snuggling dreamily into the swell of her hip and thigh, cushioned by the thick hoodie she was wearing today.

Finn was at her side and there was no one to say that it was wrong, that she was too old and he was too young. For once, duty did not call or adventure distract. Lunch had been eaten, their respective biological tracts doing the processes of extracting nutrients from ingested food. No threat barred the way from each other this time, and there was nothing to do but simply be together.

Bubblegum and Finn basked in each other ,and in the world. There was the sun high above, savagely bright and wild, a nuclear reactor of natural origin and illuminating their wounded world. Bubblegum was acutely aware of their lake and picnic area just being a tiny spot on these vast grasslands of Finn's territory, a great green expanse broken by the occasional tree and larger copse of forest-land (more prevalent where Finn and Marceline's territories crossed together like two mighty titans bowing to each other), the sky soft shades of blue where atmospheric layers rolled into each other and refracted the light, clouds loosely formed and drifting across the horizon to cast pale shadows on the ground below like roaming patches of shade.

Bubblegum sighed happily, as only a scientist who knew the beauty of all things and understood them to the glorious core could. She sat there, Finn at her side, and thought. She considered this moment; she and Finn together at this pond, a picnic blanket spread underneath and the remnants of a lunch around them, just sitting here together. She hadn't even known him for more than three years, yet it felt like she'd known him her whole life sometimes.

The thought, nice as it is, just feels so wretchedly imprecise. She's older than she looks, _much _older. She does not age, she does not visibly change, she simply _is_. Bubblegum has seen Ooo go by, civilizations rise and fall, and do her part to keep things in balance and at relative peace. She's seen the great empires and kingdoms of the past fall down in blood and doom, leaving the wilderness to claim them as failed magical experiments mutate the survivors into nameless monsters. She's not the oldest being she knows; Marceline and Ice King are older by far, and there are fearful mysteries she has given merciful peace to, and stranger things besides (and once there was an ancient hulk, a green-skinned behemoth from before even the Mushroom War, eyes dark with torment and lost loves, and it was he who taught Billy before the Lich returned from the wastes to burn the world again). Even so, she's one _of _the oldest things she knows.

And that, in turn, presents its own problems. She can't deny that it feels awkward, being with Finn like this. He's… _young. _So much younger than who. She knows enough of the bygone Age of Marvels, the time before the decline that led to the Great Mushroom War, to be aware that to the people of that day and age, their relationship would be (and she stills a laugh at this, remembering how her and Finn's romance was interrupted by Lemongrab) _unacceptable. _He is young, and while she is certainly _physically _young in various respects, for eighteen is not so old from the properly organized mind, she is not as young as he is. In the ancient days, they may well have labeled her a criminal or sick in the head, and never mind that it wasn't his age that allured her but his mind, his heart, just being who he was, and most importantly their friendship and the love that had grown from it.

She made a small unladylike snort. (Marceline's influence was more pervasive then the Vampire Queen knew, but then Marceline could be so hilariously blind to the obvious; she and Finn were so alike that Bubblegum suspected that a certain type of personality attracted her, as her two most beloved lovers had so much in common.) She cared about Finn and he cared about her. They were friends and more than that, and they both _wanted _this. That ought to be enough for anyone. It amused her, in a distant and annoyed way, that even so far removed from ancient days, a relationship like theirs got a lot of attention from busybodies. Ooo was, as she understood it, _vastly _more sexually permissive than nearly any collective culture from earlier in their damaged world's history; it was a bit annoying that the two of them got a lot of unkind comments because of the whole age difference thing.

Finn had once asked her if it was _really _a big deal; Jake was the only one who'd ever thought that the age difference might be an obstacle, and even then after things had started going sour. Bubblegum hadn't understood why it would even be an issue at all, and that settled things nicely. She didn't tell him then, but part of all that is her fault for not directly addressing the problem when they were younger, perhaps encouraging him to wait a few years; but she hadn't even _realized _that there might be a problem at all, largely oblivious to the true depths of his affection… and here and now, so much had happened because she had been so blind, and just saying that she was _sorry_ couldn't describe the hurt winding around her heart like a poisoned coil, pumping in venom to break her bones and melt her insides, because that at least would be less painful that what she felt because of all of that, and everything that had happened because of her willful ignorance.

She took a long silent look at the scar on his cheek. It was long healed now, a thin mark that he sincerely thought made him look cool, but Bubblegum didn't think she was ever going to forget that horrified look of betrayal he have given her then, on that horrible day. Not really thinking about it, she reached out and caressed it with a finger, running along its ragged length. Finn leaned in, humming happily at such closeness to her.

She leaned in. Her lips pressed against the scar, a brief kiss that barely made a sound. Finn made a small yearning sound, daring to kiss her back on the cheek. She parted, smiling, and she thought that this was not nearly enough to even come close to saying _I'm sorry_, but it was a start.

Her eyes stayed locked on him, and her expression shifted to a slightly imploring look, a mere suggestion of the furious needs and wants boiling just beneath her surface. Finn„ as ever, was responsive to her silent requests. He budged and twitched, his hand shyly creeping across the blanket and, if only for a moment, gracing the frayed edges of the shorts she wore today (and her breath stops for a moment, warmth rises on her face, and sometimes she honestly can't _believe _that Finn doesn't know the effect he has on her, no one can be that blessedly obliviously) and then, the tips of his fingers touch her own. She leaned back, her expression plainly saying 'Excellent!'. A brief, lingering contact, and then his hand is crawling upwards again, over the back of her hand. Flesh on flesh, the thickness of his palm cushioning and protecting the slim bones of his internal frame; she can _feel _him, his pulse speeding up for this delicate contact.

She's not built like he is; rather, she's not _structured _like he is. She created her own body, modeled it for efficiency and aesthetics and certainly redundancy. Her current body is more similar to a set of rigid and tough, but potentially flexible, internal framework, her organs redundant and decentralized (as is her brain, the most vital part of her being), her flesh and skin a solid and thick shell around the framework like a gelatinous structure made close to flesh. Even her hair, frequently mistaken for a bubblegum-like material, is far more gooey and almost liquid, like a standing wave when she's ingested sufficient amounts of candy bio-mass. And yet, it was all made of the same substance; if she had a mind to, potentially it could liquefy into a single living (and she grimaced) _blob _of candy bio-mass. She'd made it so that way; after Finn's first encounter with the Lich, she'd seen the flaws in having a more delicate body.

She literally had to build in the capacity for arousal; she dreaded the day when that became obvious to some well-connected wag with access to mass media and broke her carefully cultivated image. She _liked _people thinking of her as perfectly innocent.

Innocent, she thought fondly, like Finn was.

Her hand pivoted, her wrist sufficiently flexible to turn around in a nearly total three-sixty degrees, her internal frame not so limited as human structures (far more flexible, and vastly stronger too). Gentle fingers curled around his this time, thumb moving up over the hardness of one of Finn's knuckles, and just as gently her hand turned right around, squeezing strong and sweet.

She liked having the _control _here. It was safe and good, knowing where she stood with Finn. He was her subordinate, she his superior. It was not a negative thing, though she understood that it might be misinterpreted as such. Technically, he was a citizen of her kingdom though he lived outside its borders, if only just, so he would have come under her command no matter what.

"Finn," She started to say. She stopped, words dying in her mouth.

He looks up at her, eyes wide and curious. For a moment, Bubblegum thinks that without his hat, Finn looks totally different. He looks so _vulnerable _now, so lost and alone in a world that had forsaken his kind long ago. She squeezed his hand again, a small hug in miniature, and wanted to give him a proper full-body bone-grinding hug but alas it did not seem appropriate just then. For a moment she thought she heard the wind roaring, and then realized that it was Finn saying something and she had zoned out so much she hadn't understood him.

"What was that, Finn?" She asked earnestly.

Finn blinked. "Um. What were you saying?"

"Oh? No, I mean…what were you gonna say?"

"I don't know, I thought you were going to say something…"

"Oh," Bubblegum says. She giggled. "Oh my, Finn, I'm sorry, you go first!"

"Nuh uh, you're older and more awesome, _you _get to go first."

"May-_beee_," she cooed, almost sing-song. "But that means I have right of telling you what to do, so I say that _you _get to say what you wanna say first."

"Dang it! I can't think of anything to trump that!" Finn flopped against her side, hair falling into his face so she can't see his expression (and for a moment, she considered that maybe that was his plan the whole time, and raises a smug eye brow with a matching smirk). He was still for a long moment, and finally said, "Okay, but seriously. I wanted to hear what you were gonna say first before you kinda, you know, drifted off, I guess?"

Her mouth opened slightly. She snorted. "Oh, come on! I said you go first!"

"That's all I wanted to say! So, uh, oh I know! By saying _that _I give in and give you the saying stuff turn!"

Bubblegum's cheeks, already an inhuman pink, brighten to something like rosy-red. She doesn't really have blood, but in this state, she _does _have an internal liquid that serves much the same purpose. "Finn!"

"You can't break the rules of whatever it is we're doing!" Finn grinned cheekily. He rolled around so that he moved down her body, the back of his head finding a bountiful pillow in the considerable flesh of her thighs, and he just looked so _cute_ and sweet like that, all his blond hair splayed out and shining in the sunlight like the light of his soul expanding from his body and Bubblegum just _knew _he was perfectly aware of how cute he looked and was directly exploiting it here and now.

_Clever boy, _she thought and tried not to smile. "Okay, okay, you win!" She breathed in, and out, and it came as a small gusty sigh exhaled so fast it was nearly a vocalization.

Finn snuggled up deeper, grinning expectantly.

Bubblegum mumbled something under her breath, just barely loud enough for Finn to hear and hoping that this technically qualified as saying what she'd been about to say.

Finn tilted his head. This had the effect of unknowingly squashing his head a bit into her, and enticing all manner of lovely fuzzy feelings in her, and other feelings much less delicate and unsuitable for being out in the open like this. Her blush deepened. Finn, visibly puzzled by this but choosing to focus on what he considered the important matter of the moment, said "I didn't hear that."

"Yes you did! You weren't listening."

"I totally was! _You _just weren't saying it loud enough for me to hear."

"Yes, well…" Bubblegum sniffed theatrically. "It _totally _counts, Finn!"

"Does not!"

"Hmph. It does if I say it does."

"Aw, Peebee, you _know _that's cheating!"

She shifted uncomfortably. Finn had a point. She squealed a bit when he rolled a bit to get a better look at her face (a difficult and futile move, given his present position and the overall shape of her body) and stammered, "O-o-okay! You win, you win!"

"Hah!" Finn said smugly. "Say it again, Peebee?"

"…'You win?'" She said hopefully.

He pouted. "That's not what I meant!"

She pouted back. She sighed again, giving up; arguing with Finn was like trying to ward away a storm. He just sat there and _existed _and let you bat away impotently at the imperious wind and falling rain, just waiting for lightning to fall. She had to admit, though, a proper debate with Finn was _fun_. "Okay," She relented. "All right."

She sat up properly, and not giving Finn any warning, scooped him up into a tight hug. "What I wanted to say," She said, squeezing him so tightly to her that she could feel another faint squeak from him that was his air escaping from the force she put on him. "Was '_I like you a lot'_"

She squeezed even tighter. After a moment, Finn's arms began drifting to her sides and squeezed back. He breathed in, breathed out, and with that exhalation he managed to say, "I knew it!"

She giggled, and the two of them hugged each other, Finn squeezed up into her lap and face pressed into her front. "Silly boy," she said, feeling a surge of affection so intense and all-consuming that the only proper way to express it in full would be to swallow him whole, and contented herself with kissing him softly on the forehead.

Finn giggled in turn. He sounded quite a lot like her. He shifted, and a thought bubbled up through the churning mess of Bubblegum's consciousness to wonder what Finn was doing now.

He propped himself up, hands moving up from her sides to shoulders, drifting into air in a gentlemanly way on the way though she _certainly _would have preferred a proper exploration on his part, and he took firm grip on her shoulders, adjusting himself so his knees slid off her legs, planting on the ground.

He began slipping away, smaller enough from her that such a divergence was inevitable. She panicked a little, grabbing hold up of him and propping him up, and she caught a glimpse of a victorious grin on his face when she brought his face about level with her collarbone; he tilted himself up, nearly rising out of her hands, and then she felt his surprisingly sweet breath on her lips, the warmth of his skin spreading from his slightly squashed-looking nose when he leaned up-

He drifted forward, nearly losing his confidence before he ducked in, and kissed her full on the lips, long and sweet and warm.

Bubblegum's eyes widened for a moment, surprised and yet satisfied by such confidence, and then her eyes closed in pleased gratitude. His hand still on her shoulders, her own drifted to his sides, moving firmly around him and up, squeezing with all the strength she had as her hands met on the slight swell of muscle where his shoulders and neck met, and squeezed him even closer to her.

It felt good, a small part of her thought dreamily. It felt right.

(If she'd known that Jake, Marceline and Flame Princess had been hiding behind a rock because they had nothing better to do besides spy on Finn and Bubblegum – Flame Princess with surprisingly little regret about her and Finn's romance relaxing into a more amiable friendship over time – and took pictures of the kiss, sending them out to a number of interested parties for the sole reason of annoying Finn and Bubblegum. Such is the right and duty of true friends.)


End file.
